- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 110
Less than two months to go until BMOQ starts. I am sitting at my kitchen table in my pad in Okazaki, Japan. It's the end of the rainy season and the beginning of the real summer. The humidity is at 80% and the heat is just coming down from 32C. I have been out on my bike doing some shopping earlier in the day, and it was like pedalling through a swimming pool.
I had been running the day before, being on a running schedule every second day. I am killing time until my flight back to Canada in a week or so, my Japanese language classes having finished the day before. Having cleaned the kitchen and checked my packing boxes, I am in a bizarre state. I want to, no, I NEED to go for a run. These past few training sessions have been flying by. I ponder for a few more minutes and then go get my running stuff on. My favourite running shirt (the greatest footie club in the world, Hamburg SV) is still drying from yesterday. I only had time to wash the sweat out. That's OK. My stopwatch is by the door. The time from yesterday is still on it, a hard-earned 36:04. Reset and start. Out the door I go. I walk briskly, swinging my arms and rotating them clockwise and anti-clockwise. I pass by an old lady doing her gardening. As always, she stares at me. A stranger in a not so strange land. Her husband is much more polite, and wishes me a good evening. Right back atcha pal. I walk through a park composed of cherry blossoms (long out of blossoming season) and smelly sugi trees. Two kids are goofing off on a park bench, absorbed in the latest Nintendo DS game. They don't even notice as I pass by. The air is thick and moist, and makes getting a full breath a bit uncomfortable.
I turn right and weave through a maze of small cars and scooters. It's almost dark. I turn around a final corner and turn left onto a sidewalk which runs alongside a larger road still busy with traffic. I break into a trot and easily lope up a slightly inclined hill which ends at my turn-off, a brightly lit convenience stop marked Mini-stop. It's all downhill next as I concentrate on not stepping on my hills too heavily. I am doing well, the pace slowly increases as I run down an even steeper grade and turn right onto a road which runs by the student village. Turning left, onto a footpath next to a sports centre. Then it's across another road and down 20 flights of steps. I am at the reservoir. There is nice even pavement all around it. Even in the gathering darkness I can see the mated pair of swans not far from the shore, they are busy grooming their feathers. As my footsteps echo in the shadows, they turn for a moment and stare at me with perhaps bemused expressions on their faces. My pace steps up a bit more, the ache in my ankle gone. My slightly stiff shoulder is swinging back and forth easily, and I concentrate on maintaining an even form. My head has gone up and my shoulders back without noticing until I round another corner and see my shadow in a streetlight. I pass three slack-jawed high school students who are deep in a conversation about the relative ease with which different foods are concerned. How Japanese. I look down at my feet and am briefly mesmerized by the two white shoes moving back and forth at my steady gait.
Curiously after only one lap of the reservoir I am feeling a bit sluggish. Two more laps follow, I pass a woman and her dog, her arms pumping and the dog with a depraved expression on its face as it attempts to lick between its legs and walk at the same time. Sweat erupts out across my body, dripping into my eyes with a steady consistency. Attempts to flick it away are futile, and it starts to burn my eyes. My shirt is stuck to my back. I can feel a steady trickle going into my shorts and down my legs. An itch develops near my knee, right below where my arm can reach. My forelock, previously bouncing against my broad forehead, flaps up one last time and sticks. My underwear have started to ride up. My thighs seem to be getting heavier. I finish one last lap and don't remember feeling this tired the previous night. I take the stairs two at a time and as I take the last two and heave myself over the curb my knee cracks. My breath is coming heavier now, and I don't seem to be able to get a full tank of air. It's now up the long slope back up the hill, along a different street. I hit a bump in the hill which briefly takes a higher grade, and charge up it at the same pace. My body is getting heavier, and it seems to me my hair is weighing me down. I wipe my forehead with my sleeve which comes away slick with sweat. My calves are starting to burn as I head up the last section back to the Ministop. My arms are starting to pump a little too hard and a slight wave of dizziness passes over me. I shake my head and double my effort, trying to match that earlier effortless pace. I have lost all interest in the Chinese characters which adorn the signs of the pubs and restaurants down the hill, usually a source of entertainment with their clever double meanings. I pass through a traffic signal and almost stumble as the grade of the road slowly goes down.
I have beaten the hump again, but the last long straightway stretches out before. The 99 Yen shop which marks the end of the run is barely visible, its orange and blue sign peeking through the branches of a tree. I blunder down an uneven sidewalk and once again pick up my pace until my I can hear my feet beating an even tattoo on the pavement. Cars flash by me with insolent ease, their drivers peering through the window at me. I can see the egg racks parked outside the 99 shop gleaming dully in the flourescent light. One last turn and I am done. Another wave passes over me as I slow down but I master it and keep walking. I feel much more tired than usual. Am I ready for the army? Two runs in two days and I am exhausted. What happens when I am in full uniform and doing the 13km ruck? I don't feel great and stare up at the barely visible stars glimmering through a haze of Japanese light and smog pollution. I trudge up my steps and fish for my key in the back of my running shorts. Maybe I can't do this.
The door opens and I click the stopwatch off and sit down on the step in my entrance, pulling off my shoes and soaking socks. Depressing. I stand up and start to go up the stairs to get my towel for a glum shower. The stopwatch catches my eye again. Dammit. I force myself to look at the stopwatch. I toss the stopwatch back on the shelf and bound up the stairs and smash open the door to my room. Clothes go flying around the room in a frenzy as I take the stairs three at a time on the way down to the bathroom. I look at the stopwatch again. 34:54. Who. Is. Your. Daddy. This just might be the right job for me after all.
Keep it up everyone! If I can do it, so can you.
I had been running the day before, being on a running schedule every second day. I am killing time until my flight back to Canada in a week or so, my Japanese language classes having finished the day before. Having cleaned the kitchen and checked my packing boxes, I am in a bizarre state. I want to, no, I NEED to go for a run. These past few training sessions have been flying by. I ponder for a few more minutes and then go get my running stuff on. My favourite running shirt (the greatest footie club in the world, Hamburg SV) is still drying from yesterday. I only had time to wash the sweat out. That's OK. My stopwatch is by the door. The time from yesterday is still on it, a hard-earned 36:04. Reset and start. Out the door I go. I walk briskly, swinging my arms and rotating them clockwise and anti-clockwise. I pass by an old lady doing her gardening. As always, she stares at me. A stranger in a not so strange land. Her husband is much more polite, and wishes me a good evening. Right back atcha pal. I walk through a park composed of cherry blossoms (long out of blossoming season) and smelly sugi trees. Two kids are goofing off on a park bench, absorbed in the latest Nintendo DS game. They don't even notice as I pass by. The air is thick and moist, and makes getting a full breath a bit uncomfortable.
I turn right and weave through a maze of small cars and scooters. It's almost dark. I turn around a final corner and turn left onto a sidewalk which runs alongside a larger road still busy with traffic. I break into a trot and easily lope up a slightly inclined hill which ends at my turn-off, a brightly lit convenience stop marked Mini-stop. It's all downhill next as I concentrate on not stepping on my hills too heavily. I am doing well, the pace slowly increases as I run down an even steeper grade and turn right onto a road which runs by the student village. Turning left, onto a footpath next to a sports centre. Then it's across another road and down 20 flights of steps. I am at the reservoir. There is nice even pavement all around it. Even in the gathering darkness I can see the mated pair of swans not far from the shore, they are busy grooming their feathers. As my footsteps echo in the shadows, they turn for a moment and stare at me with perhaps bemused expressions on their faces. My pace steps up a bit more, the ache in my ankle gone. My slightly stiff shoulder is swinging back and forth easily, and I concentrate on maintaining an even form. My head has gone up and my shoulders back without noticing until I round another corner and see my shadow in a streetlight. I pass three slack-jawed high school students who are deep in a conversation about the relative ease with which different foods are concerned. How Japanese. I look down at my feet and am briefly mesmerized by the two white shoes moving back and forth at my steady gait.
Curiously after only one lap of the reservoir I am feeling a bit sluggish. Two more laps follow, I pass a woman and her dog, her arms pumping and the dog with a depraved expression on its face as it attempts to lick between its legs and walk at the same time. Sweat erupts out across my body, dripping into my eyes with a steady consistency. Attempts to flick it away are futile, and it starts to burn my eyes. My shirt is stuck to my back. I can feel a steady trickle going into my shorts and down my legs. An itch develops near my knee, right below where my arm can reach. My forelock, previously bouncing against my broad forehead, flaps up one last time and sticks. My underwear have started to ride up. My thighs seem to be getting heavier. I finish one last lap and don't remember feeling this tired the previous night. I take the stairs two at a time and as I take the last two and heave myself over the curb my knee cracks. My breath is coming heavier now, and I don't seem to be able to get a full tank of air. It's now up the long slope back up the hill, along a different street. I hit a bump in the hill which briefly takes a higher grade, and charge up it at the same pace. My body is getting heavier, and it seems to me my hair is weighing me down. I wipe my forehead with my sleeve which comes away slick with sweat. My calves are starting to burn as I head up the last section back to the Ministop. My arms are starting to pump a little too hard and a slight wave of dizziness passes over me. I shake my head and double my effort, trying to match that earlier effortless pace. I have lost all interest in the Chinese characters which adorn the signs of the pubs and restaurants down the hill, usually a source of entertainment with their clever double meanings. I pass through a traffic signal and almost stumble as the grade of the road slowly goes down.
I have beaten the hump again, but the last long straightway stretches out before. The 99 Yen shop which marks the end of the run is barely visible, its orange and blue sign peeking through the branches of a tree. I blunder down an uneven sidewalk and once again pick up my pace until my I can hear my feet beating an even tattoo on the pavement. Cars flash by me with insolent ease, their drivers peering through the window at me. I can see the egg racks parked outside the 99 shop gleaming dully in the flourescent light. One last turn and I am done. Another wave passes over me as I slow down but I master it and keep walking. I feel much more tired than usual. Am I ready for the army? Two runs in two days and I am exhausted. What happens when I am in full uniform and doing the 13km ruck? I don't feel great and stare up at the barely visible stars glimmering through a haze of Japanese light and smog pollution. I trudge up my steps and fish for my key in the back of my running shorts. Maybe I can't do this.
The door opens and I click the stopwatch off and sit down on the step in my entrance, pulling off my shoes and soaking socks. Depressing. I stand up and start to go up the stairs to get my towel for a glum shower. The stopwatch catches my eye again. Dammit. I force myself to look at the stopwatch. I toss the stopwatch back on the shelf and bound up the stairs and smash open the door to my room. Clothes go flying around the room in a frenzy as I take the stairs three at a time on the way down to the bathroom. I look at the stopwatch again. 34:54. Who. Is. Your. Daddy. This just might be the right job for me after all.
Keep it up everyone! If I can do it, so can you.
